All Chapters of I was more than pretty: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

60 Chapters

The Day I Avoided a King and Survived a Queen

I turned myself into a ghost.Not of spirit — of movement.At Parsons, I mapped out my days like a fugitive. I memorized Soren Bellandi’s schedule with the precision of a thief. I knew which hallway he crossed at 8:47 a.m., which elevator he favored, how long his coffee lingered on the twenty-third floor before meetings.And I avoided it all.I used the service elevator that smelled of bleach and old mops. I timed my bathroom breaks like military operations. I ate lunch at my desk with the grim focus of someone defending territory.It was absurd.And I knew it.I wasn’t hiding from a monster. I wasn’t dodging a tyrant. I was ducking around corners to avoid a man who had offered me money to play a part I couldn’t stomach — and I had walked away.Yet every glimpse of his shadow sent my pulse into chaos. Every meeting announcement chilled my hands. Every quiet glance from George Valea made me wonder: Is he reporting back?It was tragic. Comedic. A farce played out under fluorescent lights

Last Updated : 2025-09-23

As cruel as always

I had never truly met her.Not in this life.The memory I carried belonged to another timeline—a dinner Julian staged like a coronation. Crystal gleamed beneath chandeliers, silence lay thick as smoke, and his mother’s eyes had been colder than the silver at her place setting. She had studied me like a stain and said, “You’ll do… for now.”Within a year, she’d shown me what those words meant. The burn on my hand, dismissed as clumsiness. Her laughter when I begged for kindness. The humiliation of realizing cruelty could wear a smile.That was after the vows, after the property transfer, after my name had been swallowed whole by “wife.”Now, though?Now the world said we were strangers.She didn’t know me—not yet. But I knew her. I remembered the tilt of her pinky when she sipped her tea, the sharpened calm in her words, the superiority she carried like a scent. I remembered the fear, too—not raw terror, but the hollow dread of helplessness.And when I spotted her outside Mirelle & Co.,

Last Updated : 2025-09-25

Confronting MRS VALE

The car halted at precisely 7:02 p.m.Julian’s driver swung the door open without lifting his gaze. His silence pleased me. Let him carry the weight of what he’d witnessed.I stepped out in the Mirelle & Co. dress—plum silk, one shoulder bare, the other bound by black mesh that clung like a scar reborn into art. My hair was sleek, my lips painted dark, my heels striking the marble drive with each step, a measured countdown to their undoing.Julian waited at the entrance, polished and smiling the way men smile when they’re rehearsing approval.“Ev,” he said lightly, his tone dropping on the last word. “You look… bold. Mother prefers softer tones.”I brushed past him, my silence a blade.The dining room gleamed like a stage set: white linen, crystal glasses, candles too bright, as if they feared shadows.Richard Vale lifted his head from his phone. His eyes dragged across me, disapproval instant and unfiltered.“Julian said you were modest. This isn’t modest.”Across the table, Mrs. Val

Last Updated : 2025-09-25

A pig will always be a pig!

I hadn’t taken ten steps when the door slammed behind me.“Ev! Wait!”Julian’s voice cut through the night — sharp, entitled, furious. I kept walking. I didn’t slow. I didn’t turn.He caught up within seconds, his hand closing around my arm, his grip hard enough to bruise.“What the hell was that?” he hissed, his breath hot against my face. “You embarrassed me in front of my parents. After everything I’ve done for you?”I pulled free, my silence a wall between us.For the first time, I saw him without the gloss of wealth or the polish of status. Not Julian Vale, CEO, heir, fiancé. Just a man. Small. Spoiled. Enraged that his toy had learned to bite.“You think this is funny?” he spat. “You walked in there dressed like a streetwalker and insulted my mother?”The words should have cut. They didn’t.“You’re ungrateful,” he went on, voice tightening, eyes flashing with contempt. “After I paid for your surgery, after I gave you a name. You’d still be nobody if I hadn’t picked you up.”He l

Last Updated : 2025-09-27

Mask of regret

The door slammed so hard the chandelier above the staircase quivered, scattering prisms across the marble floor.Julian stood frozen in the foyer, one hand still pressed to his cheek where Evelyn’s slap had burned its mark. His jaw ached from clenching, his chest heaved with ragged breaths, but what unsettled him most was the silence that followed her departure.She hadn’t looked back.Not once.For a moment he stared at the door, as though sheer willpower might pull her back through it. But the street beyond had already swallowed her, and he was left with nothing but the echo of his own humiliation.His humiliation — and his mother’s faint, brittle sigh.“Julian,” Mrs. Vale murmured from the shadows of the sitting room, her silhouette etched against the firelight. She was composed as always, shoulders square, pearls glimmering like frost at her throat. But her eyes — sharp and restless — betrayed what her voice would never admit.“You shouldn’t have chased her like that. Not outside.

Last Updated : 2025-09-28

Following Mother’s advice: Like mother like Son

The first bouquet arrived on Monday morning. A cascade of white roses, each stem wrapped in velvet ribbon, each petal fresh with dew as though plucked from a garden only moments before. The florist carried them in with two hands, the weight of the vase nearly tipping.Attached was a card. His handwriting, sharp and deliberate, leapt from the surface.“I’m sorry, Evelyn. I should have protected you. Please forgive me. — Julian.”I left the flowers in the hallway, their fragrance filling the air long after I had turned my back.By Tuesday, the gifts had multiplied. A courier delivered three boxes tied with silver bows. Inside: a silk scarf, a diamond pendant, and a bottle of perfume I once mentioned in passing at a dinner, nearly a year ago. He remembered. The precision was unnerving.Another note was tucked inside the scarf’s folds:“I didn’t know what came over my mother. She was upset. It wasn’t her, it was the moment. I should have defended you. Give me the chance to make it right.”

Last Updated : 2025-09-30

Manipulative Confession?

I had always believed betrayal carried its own scent. Not perfume, not cologne—something sharper, something rotten at the edges of sweetness. By now, I could smell it the way sailors smelled storms.Serena.She thought she was clever. Thought her careful smiles and painted concern could disguise what she had done. But the world had already revealed her secrets to me—not through her words, but through the camera lens.Weeks ago, while she fluttered around Julian with her silk dresses and honeyed laughter, I had been busy planting eyes in the shadows. A camera in the empty conference room no one used. Another in the quiet lounge where they often lingered too long after meetings. A third in the parking garage, angled toward the sleek lines of Julian’s car, where stolen kisses left fog on the windows.The footage told the truth she would never confess: Serena was the second knife in my back. My sister in name, my rival in truth.I watched the recordings late at night, when the world was q

Last Updated : 2025-09-30

Suddenly Recall

It began with a name.words, tucked away on a faded digital archive page: Soren Bellandi. There was no photograph attached, no neat biography, only a brief mention in Parsons Global’s “Visionaries of the Modern Era.”I had been scrolling through decades of history for a textile project, names of legends flashing past me—Laurent, Voss, Kimura. And then his appeared.Not bold.Not highlighted.Just there.And yet the moment my eyes touched it, something in me shifted. My breath caught, not out of admiration or recognition, but from something far stranger—memory.The problem was, it wasn’t mine.Because I had never seen Soren Bellandi before. I had never met him. I had never even heard his name until he walked into this branch months ago, silent and commanding in a way that made the air around him bend.He should have been a stranger.But my body reacted differently. My pulse climbed, heat prickled across my skin, and somewhere behind the locked wall of time, I knew him.Not in this life

Last Updated : 2025-10-02

Questionable Fate?

For weeks, I had told myself he was a stranger. An anomaly. A force of power who simply existed in my present because the universe had twisted cruelly enough to place him here.But I had been wrong.I had known him. Somewhere in the fog of my other life, he had existed. I had carried the faint ache of his death without understanding why, like a note struck once and left to echo long after the music ended.And now the truth pressed down on me like a weight I couldn’t shake: I wasn’t meeting him for the first time. I was remembering.My breath came shallow. My chest felt caged. Every thought splintered into two, then fractured into more—questions without answers, theories tangled with fear.Why me?Why had he asked me to be his girlfriend, of all things? He could have chosen anyone—beautiful, polished, powerful women who would have lined up for the privilege of being by his side. I had seen them whisper about him in corridors, glance toward him with hunger in their eyes. He had access t

Last Updated : 2025-10-03

Going back to Julian.

“Come on, Eve, you’ve been sulking all day,” Serena said, looping her arm through Eve’s as they walked down the marble steps. The evening air was soft, golden with sunset, the smell of grilled meat already drifting through the courtyard. “You need to breathe a little. It’s just a barbecue, not a funeral.”Eve forced a small smile. “I didn’t say no, did I?”Serena glanced at her sideways, her red lips curving into something between a smirk and concern. “You didn’t have to. Your face says everything.”“I guess I’m just… tired,” Eve replied, her voice distant. Her mind was still replaying what she had remembered earlier — that face, his voice, the way her heart had recognized him before her mind caught up. She had always known him. The realization had hit her like a wave, powerful enough to leave her breathless. All this while she had thought she didn’t know him. But now… she did.Serena chuckled lightly, brushing invisible dust from her dress. “Well, you’ll feel better after some wine a

Last Updated : 2025-10-05

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